Dante
by Lily Potter-Malfoy
Summary: Dante who was always the one orchestrating everything. Dante who was always in control. A woman who was forced to relinquish her hold on Fate and finally be controlled by someone else. Dante's POV slightly spoilerish Oneshot


Lily: do ya know who it is?

I was never the star of the show, nor was I ever the one who had the eyes of the entire audience. Always I remained in the shadows, the smirking puppeteer to my life's pantomime. Silently I manipulated everything, from the way a blade of grass broke to the movements of whole armies; it was all within my power.

Never did I succumb to the usual human weaknesses, age never touched me, disease could never reach me, and even Fate was helpless against me. I always believed that I was the one who would decide when I finally passed away, and I always knew I would bring everyone and everything with me.

My life was like an endless play. I ordered my actors and actresses on stage and watched them make each other bleed. Silently I watched as prim Donna after prima Donna danced frantically on my stage; tripping when I ordered it and finally crumpling into nothing when her act was complete. It was a decadent and horrifying theater where anyone I wanted to lure in could and would get lost in its swirling inky night.

Of course I am still somewhat human though I am much more than a simple woman. Things like Love and Lust still gripped me and whenever they did I could change my play and add a new act to draw in whoever I wanted. Only it didn't always go as I wrote in my script; for I learned that not all men are subject to my demands, no matter how much I planned it.

One such man was Hoenheim of the Light…brilliant like his name suggested. He was the first man I ever loved, back when I was still just a woman and he just a man, back when the strings that cut my fingers now had not yet begun to take shape, back when everything was simpler and my play had not yet begun. To him the world was something to be figured out and broken down, everything was alchemy and soon our love became nothing, consumed by his greater love of all things scientific.

Perhaps it was him that started the play, he who put into motion the never ending dance of destruction of which I am master. Because ultimately after he left me, after I lost him, and after I ceased being a woman, everything was to get to him.

Eternal life, the Philosopher's stone, even conquering that cursed Gate…none of it mattered as long as Hoenheim was mine. He was the one who drove me, the goal in my tortuous plans, the one thing in my life that I had not been able to control.

I focused so much on him that I didn't even notice that somewhere along the line, my plans began to unravel. My puppets began to break and malfunction, even those I had believed to be mindless pawns became factors major in my ultimate downfall.

It is only ironic that the one to end my puppet show, the one who cut the strings and drew the curtains, was the son of Hoenheim of the Light…or shall I say, Hoenheim Elric. The son of the one man I had ever truly loved and a woman I never knew existed took the play out of my hands and stopped it for good.

His name was Edward and he looked just like my child would have looked if he had lived long enough to see that age.

I never got used to not being in control, to suddenly being put out on stage in the spotlight wearing unbroken ballet slippers. Never got used to breaking myself to try and regain control and instead being pulled every which way like the people I had been controlling for hundreds of years. But no matter how much I despised it, the script was out of my hands and everything was drawing to a close.

It was time for my last performance.

Out on the stage of the world in those slippers, dancing as my feet bled towards the end; the final movement commenced as I danced off the stage. Now I was the stage hand, forcefully pushed to close the curtains without even a last bow.

It is approaching the climax as I dance on, the last crescendo sounds and the wailing of violins reaches my hearing. I escape the stage and run to my very last shot at retrieving my script.

All is spiraling downwards.

A tug of my string and I fall, it has come to the end. A jolt and my leering executioner is before me, I feel something sharp tear into me and it hits me that it is truly ending.

The blood slows down in my body and some trickles out of it.

All is silent.

My executioner smiles and leaves me dying, blood dripping from his grinning face.

Everything is slowing down; I am forced to take one last step, to close this play forever.

I gasp once more and go limp.

There is no audience to mourn my death.

Everything has ended.

Cue the music and fade to black.

Lily: well do ya? Do ya do ya (wanna) know?(I'm a Franz Ferdinand addict)

Haha actually it's in the title. Well, I'm kind of happy with it. This really isn't my style though. Sort of angsty and confusing, but I had a thought while I was cleaning the bathroom and this is how it um…formed itself.


End file.
